


The Lord Commander and His Queen

by lyn452



Series: Jonerys Valentine Event 2020 - Leather and Lace Edition [4]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22765369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyn452/pseuds/lyn452
Summary: Lace | Lost Love & Reunions - They had been in love during the war, but such things didn’t always last when your responsibilities pulled you in separate directions; the Lord Commander had half hoped to never see the Dragon Queen again, the other half had feared it.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Series: Jonerys Valentine Event 2020 - Leather and Lace Edition [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634287
Comments: 17
Kudos: 128





	The Lord Commander and His Queen

The 998th Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch entered the Red Keep, his heavy boots echoing on the stone floor. He didn’t want to be here, but with the wandering crow ill someone had to come down here and recruit men for the Wall. Jon had known he could have ordered one of his brothers to do it, but for some reason he wanted to do it himself.

He’d only been in the Red Keep once, and it hadn’t been a pleasant memory. It was here that he’d broken his love’s heart along with his own. He’d held Daenerys in her new throne room, and told her that he couldn’t be her king that his place was at the Wall. He denied all her arguments and when she tried to order him to stay, he’d coldly pointed out that he answered to no king or queen. 

Jon lived with many regrets in his life, but that day topped the rest of them, easily. 

He hated the stench of the city and thought there were far too many people in one place. He would forever be a northerner, more used to isolation than crowding. Jon had already gone to the jails to pick up men for the Wall and now to complete his duty, he was going to talk with the royal court.

Part of him hoped Daenerys was away. Perhaps she would have rode Drogon to Dragonstone and he could speak with Tyrion, get his men and leave without her even knowing. 

Jon knew he would never be that lucky. He could almost swear that he knew Daenerys was here just by entering the keep. There was no magic that did such things, but still Jon felt it in his bones. He made his way to the throne room where he was confronted by a line of petitioners. 

As Lord Commander, he knew he could cut in front of commoners, but Jon had no desire to make his way to the front and he knew that commoners often traveled nearly as far as him to see their queen and get her judgments. So he made his way to the back of the line and waited. 

The line was moving but not fast. Jon smiled softly at the thought of Daenerys on her bench, listening to the complaints of her people, giving each of them her time and thinking over her judgments carefully. During the War for the Dawn, on a pillow, she’d confessed that it was the task she both loved and hated most about being a queen. She loved to learn more about the people she ruled and helping make a tangible difference in at least one person’s life that she could see. 

But those differences could be terrible too, and she would never forget the first set of child’s bones dropped at her feet and how she always feared it would happen again. 

Jon remembered that conversation as the first moment he truly knew she would be a good queen. He’d supported her because she’d come to his rescue at the Wall. She’d put her quest for the throne on hold to battle the dead, and he couldn’t be anything but grateful to her. He hadn’t meant to fall in love with her, but he’d considered it impossible not to.

She’d told him that she’d felt the same way about him, but Jon still didn’t understand how she could have possibly returned his feelings. But he’d never regret the time they spent together, even if he shortened it. He knew he’d done the right thing, by the laws of the land and the oaths he’d taken, but his heart still cried for what he’d lost. 

Jon could see that he was at the front of the line now, he’d been too lost in his own thoughts. He had no idea what he’d say to Daenerys. He’d tried to think of things on the boat journey down, but nothing ever came to him. He’d hoped inspiration would strike when he arrived, if she was here.

Inspiration was a cunt though. Jon still had nothing to say. No pretty words to sooth what he was sure would be her angry towards him. No cold, business only words to ignore any feelings that might be had. No inadequate apologies or regrets. 

Grey Worm’s eyes narrowed when he came to get Jon for his audience with the queen. Jon ignored the look. He’d fought by Daenerys’ most faithful soldier’s side for nearly a year. He’d even managed to recruit some of the Unsullied to join the Night’s Watch. (The vows didn’t punish eunuchs much.) But Jon had always known their loyalty was to their queen first. Even if Daenerys had forgiven Jon for leaving, he knew Grey Worm never would. 

That loyalty was both something to admire and fear, Jon thought. His brothers were loyal to him, but that loyalty only went as far as their own minds. Jon knew he if he tested it too much, it would break. Daenerys never needed to fear such a thing, not from these men she’d freed. 

Jon entered the room and saw Daenerys Targaryen for the first time in five years. She looked as beautiful as he remembered and his breath caught at the sight of her. 

He would have hoped that some of her brilliance might have dimmed, that his memory would have failed him and made her better than she was, but she was just as he remembered. 

She failed to control her reaction to the sight of him as well. Her eyes almost immediately filled with tears and she gasped out, “Jon?”

Before he could respond though, she wiped her eyes and stood up straight, her queenly mask firmly in place. She clasped her hands together and asked in her most haughty tone, “Lord Commander, why are you here? Does the Wall require my help once again?”

Jon’s thoughts filled with those undead creatures he’d fought against with her. Their cold, glowing blue eyes. Their simultaneously frozen and rotten flesh. He repressed a shiver. “No, your grace. I’m only here to escort men for the Night’s Watch back to the Wall.” 

In the middle of Daenerys’ forehead appeared a crease that had always amused Jon to see. She only got it when she was confused by something. 

The last time Jon had seen that look was when he’d told her that Bran had managed to warg the Night King, giving Jon the chance to destroy the body. The loss of the Night King turned the Army of the Undead from a terrifying menace that seemed hellbent on destroying the living to a body without a head. The living had wiped out the wights much more easily and the war was won. 

Not that Jon believed the Long Night was over. They still knew little about what the Night King had wanted or the magic that had sustained him. Jon worried that the evil had merely gone dormant rather than disappeared, and that living men must always be on their guard against the return of such evil.

Bran felt the same way and Jon stayed in constant contact with his brother, who now resided at the Citadel. Bran was no maester and had forged no links despite his official title of apprentice. The maesters despised and distrusted whatever magic was the Three-Eyed Raven, but they couldn’t let an opportunity to let such a fount of knowledge go untapped. Jon thought his brother seemed happy enough there, or whatever passed for happy with Bran these days. Sam had returned to the Wall with his maester’s chain last year and promised Jon that he would check on his brother as often as he was able. 

Jon had left Sam in charge in his absence at the Wall though he knew Edd would probably do most of the commanding. The only reason he’d picked Sam rather than Edd was he didn’t want to argue with Edd and hear the bitching and moaning for the next month about how hard it was to be in charge. Sam had put up no fight about being in charge, but Jon knew he’d probably get to hear bitching and moaning from Edd anyway. 

The thought made Jon smile, which only made the indent on Daenerys’ forehead deepen. The sight brought Jon back to the present. Daenerys questioned, “Don’t you have men to do this for you, Lord Commander?”

“Aye, your grace. But my man is indisposed, so I’m doing the job for him.”

She smiled, getting lost in her own memories before she commented, “You always did insist on doing everything yourself.” 

Jon smirked. “I have been called a stubborn man before.”

“Enossho mahrazh,” Daenerys whispered. Jon smiled at the familiar Dothraki words, mule man. He’d hated the nickname, but it had amused Daenerys so much, that he’d learned to live with it. After learning some of the other nicknames the Dothraki had for Westerosi men, Jon had considered himself lucky. 

“Jon…” Daenerys swallowed and looked down, and Jon wondered at the bit of shyness. He didn’t consider Daenerys a shy person, even naked she exuded confidence he could envy. She signaled to one of her men who went to dismiss those waiting in line behind him. It was Jon’s turn to be confused now, but before he could question anything, Daenerys had stood and walked to him.

Her scent filled his nostrils and Jon was transported to times spent wrapped in the dragon queen’s sheets, his face buried in her hair, and his arm loosely wrapped around her waist. He struggled to bring himself back to the present, but his mind resisted, wanting so much to go back to the way things once were between them. 

Jon took a deep breath and forced himself back to the present. Daenerys stood before him now, studying him, as though she knew he’d been lost in the past and waited for him to return to her. Jon wouldn’t put it past her, she knew him so well. 

“Jon,” she started again. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something that never quite seemed right to tell you through the ravens.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed. Daenerys was definitely nervous. But what on Planetos could possibly make the mother of dragons nervous? “Your grace, I may not answer to the Queen of Westeros, but we are allies. I will never deny you. You have nothing to fear from your Lord Commander.”

She laughed, a bitter thing. “Jon, you…” She paused, licking her lips. “You may not feel that way soon enough. Follow me.”

Jon did as she asked, curious. He didn’t know what Daenerys could possibly be talking about. How could she not know that he would love her always? Yes, he’d left her. But she had to understand why. She’d even written him a note explaining that she did. Had she changed her mind in the years since? What was going on?

He barely noticed the restored opulence of the Red Keep. Drawing incomes from both Essos and Westeros had made the queen a very wealthy woman. Even with winter taking over the lands of Westeros, Daenerys had been able to draw from resources from the land she’d called home for most of her life to sustain her new kingdom. Jon had heard the rumblings from his sister, the Lady of Winterfell, as well as others in the land, about their queen being too foreign, but he thought it better she be a bit foreign then their people starve for their pride. 

As much as Jon loved his family, his time at the Wall had given him some much needed perspective, the common people didn’t really care about the game of thrones. They only cared about having food in their bellies and protection from thieves and rapists. They wished for long summers and no wars. While the great lords and ladies squawked over lost pride, the peasants who would actually fought the wars based on mere pride were mostly concerned with only their own lives. 

Jon was taken deep into the Castle until he was no longer sure where he was anymore. He was almost surprised when he walked outside into a garden. He was also surprised by the beauty of the place. Not much beauty had survived Cersei’s razing of the Red Keep. Daenerys had clearly rebuilt in the years since that final war, but Jon was still surprised to find the garden’s blooming so brightly. He had thought nothing would survive wildfire. 

He heard the child’s giggle in the air, but it meant nothing to him. An idle curiosity maybe, but nothing more. It wasn’t until he saw the child that Jon stopped, and understood what it was Daenerys had been trying to tell him in her throne room.

_Father no children._

Jon had left Daenerys to fulfill his vows, but now he saw he’d been too late. The pretty girl, with her platinum curls and grey eyes told him everything he needed to know as he felt his gut clench and he resisted the urge to bend over in pain. It felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. 

He shot a quick glare in Daenerys’ direction, almost pleased to see her looking away in shame. She should be ashamed, hiding his daughter from him. Jon tried to tap down on his anger, but it rose regardless of his wishes. She had betrayed him. Maybe she couldn’t have sent him word via letter that she’d carried and borne his child as she’d claimed, but she could have sent for him. She could have asked him to come so that she could explain, so that she could show him before now what their love had produced. She had to know that he would have come if she’d only asked. 

As he processed the new shift in his world, the girl noticed Daenerys and called out, “Mama,” and she ran over as fast as her little legs could carry her. 

Jon pushed down every single emotion he could possibly feel, not wanting to frighten this precious child with his ugly emotions. 

Daenerys took the child in her arms, cuddling her close, and a warm emotion broke through for Jon’s anger and hurt for a moment as he recalled Daenerys’ desire for a child. It had been confessed on the same night he’d told her about nearly abandoning his vows and what Aemon had told him about love and duty. It had been one of the sweetest nights of Jon’s life. As he’d made love to her, he thought he could die in the fight against the dead for having known her. If he could ensure that she got the child she desired, he’d die in a heartbeat. Her first child had died to give her husband life, perhaps Jon’s renewed life was restored to give her back what had been stolen.

Jon frowned at the memory. He wanted to blame her. And while he might have wished and bargained for the child as much as she had, that still didn’t mean she could hide the child from him, just because he’d been at the Wall. 

He tried to shut down his emotions and just observe, but what he observed broke his heart for missing it. The girl was telling her mother something about the flowers on the other side of the garden, explaining why mommy was silly for thinking them pretty when they were so much more than that. It hurt to hear this little girl, who was already so much her own person, be a stranger to him. 

Then she turned her grey eyes to him. “Who’s that, mommy?”

Jon looked to Daenerys, curious to see what she would say.

She said, “That’s Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch at the Wall.”

“Oh,” the little girl said. She looked him over once more before returning her attention to her mother. “Did you know that Naath has deadly butterflies?”

“I did, sweetie,” Daenerys answered. 

The servant who’d been with the child before approached and reminded Daenerys that it was time for the girl to go to bed. Reluctantly, Daenerys let the girl go with the woman but she got a kiss good-bye first. 

Jon was nearly knocked over when the girl turned to him and said, “Good-bye, Lord Snow.”

Lord Snow. It had been a cruel taunt in his early days at the Wall. Now, from the lips of this child, they were the sweetest words he’d ever heard. He watched the girl go, still talking with the woman who was seeing her to bed. Daenerys’ eyes followed as well and they watched silently as the girl left their view.

Jon didn’t even know where to start. He wanted to yell and rant and rave about how unfairly he’d been treated. He wanted to ask Daenerys to tell him everything about the daughter he didn’t know. He wanted to cry at the beauty and perfection that was the princess.

Daenerys spoke first, “Her name is Rhaenyra, the Realm’s Delight once again. Though I hope it doesn’t turn out to be a cursed name. I would hate for her ending to be the same. I want to protect her from the harshness of life.”

Rhaenyra. Jon processed the word as he asked, almost detached, “Who did you say was her father?” Not who was her father, Jon knew the answer to that already, and as angry as he was, he wasn’t about to add infidelity to Dany’s list of crimes.

“She is the princess who was promised, a gift from the Mother herself. A miracle like her brothers, born without a father.” 

“Without a father?” Jon didn’t bother disguising the anger in his tone.

“Oh, there will always be rumors otherwise, but who would dare contradict a queen?” Her violet eyes met his grey ones. 

Jon snarled, letting his anger flow freely now, “You lied to me. You hid my daughter from me. And now…”

“You left me to deal with it. You left me to deal with everything. I did.” Daenerys took a deep breath and continued less sharply, “You were the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch and one of the honorable heroes of the War Against the Dead, I wasn’t going to tarnish your name by telling them you broke your vows.”

That particular truth hurt and Jon flinched at it when she said it. He thought through what she said and then responded, “That may explain what you told the public. It doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me.”

Daenerys closed her eyes, the pain showing on her face. “I was hurt. You hurt me, Jon Snow.”

“And this was your revenge? Hiding my child was how you were going to get me back?”

“I didn’t mean to. It just…” Daenerys broke off, looking down at her feet. “I just put it off and the longer I didn’t tell you, the harder it got to tell you.”

Jon stood silent, brooding in his anger.

“I’m sorry, Jon, for what it’s worth.”

He wanted to snap that her apology was worth very little to him. But instead he asked, “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know, Jon.” Daenerys took a few steps forward and then sat on a bench. “It’s not like you can move down here and really be a father to Rhae. But I don’t actually want to keep you out of her life either.”

Jon knew Daenerys was right. He had duties and obligations that had to come before fatherhood. This is why his vows forbid him from becoming a father. One could not be Lord Commander and a father. “I want to know her,” he said, figuring it out as he spoke. “I can call the wandering crow to come down here and finish the job with the recruits, despite his illness. I’ll claim an emergency.” Jon didn’t like lying, but it would be easy enough to come up with one. Maybe he could claim that Bran found some information he needed to check out with the queen. “I want to know her, Dany.”

Daenerys nodded. Jon sat next to her, feeling tired suddenly. “What’s she like?”

Daenerys smiled automatically, and something in Jon’s heart tugged at the sight. He still loved her, he realized. He was angry with her, wasn’t prepared to forgive her just yet, but he still loved her. It was a sobering thought. To know that he would probably never stop loving Daenerys Targaryen. 

“She’s smart, sometimes too much. She likes getting into trouble, escaping from her guards to climb trees and such. She sucks up everything like a sponge.” Daenerys snorted. “She reminds me of you with as stubborn as she can be.”

Jon snorted in return. “Yeah, because her mother has never been stubborn.”

Daenerys smiled at him. They would figure this out, Jon realized then. He reached across the minimal distance of the bench to take Daenerys’ hand in his own. It wouldn’t be easy, and it would take time, but they would do it. He squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

Together.


End file.
